Proof
by TricksterOcelot
Summary: Was he looking for proof that he had existed, or proof that he was never coming back?


It was a creepy room, to say the least. Not a place he really wanted to be, or had even wanted to acknowledge. Even the name was creepy.

The Proof of Existence.

Was this bastardized version of a graveyard really the only thing that proved they had once lived? (Maybe lived wasn't the right word, but it suited his purpose.) It was a depressing thought, if Nobodies had the capacity to feel as such.

Xigbar stood at the entrance to the room, silently observing the broken sigils and red lit markers that unfortunately outnumbered the number of whole blue ones. The last time he had been anywhere near this room all of them had been lit up, not that it had really made the room any less creepy. He hadn't come past here when those sent to Castle Oblivion had been wiped out; some nagging twinge in the back of his mind kept him away. He had not wanted to see what happened to the "proof" that they existed when they no longer did.

He had thought about it once the kid died. Thought about coming to "pay his last respects", or whatever they called it. Maybe make sure that the kid had been around, make sure that there was something was still there to prove that he had been part of the Organization. To prove that even though Nobodies weren't supposed to exist, he had. But eventually Xigbar had decided against it, because deep down there was something not unlike fear that the marker would have disappeared, that there would no longer be any proof.

Then Xaldin had died, and Xigbar made plans to visit the room. He had to, although he wasn't quite sure _why_. It just seemed like something that needed to be done. But with the lack of members, the few who were left had to pick up the slack, and Xigbar just never seemed to get the time.

At least, not until now. This was his first, last, and only chance.

Xigbar sighed, staring at the ground for a few minutes, before snapping his head back up with the usual grin on his face. There was no point in pretending to be sad. Strolling casually through the aisle in the middle of the room, he occasionally stopped to toss out small, snarky comments about how so-and-so has looked better or how it's unfortunate that the traitor wasn't among the broken markers yet. There was a slight pause at Demyx's row, but that wasn't why he was here.

Despite his forced nonsense, he found his way to Xaldin's broken sigil, realizing only once he got there that he had been purposefully taking his time. Xigbar stood frozen on the spot, the grin (more like a grimace) frozen almost painfully on his face. Why had he even come here, what had been the point?

This only confirmed that Xaldin was gone, cemented the fact that Xigbar wasn't able to bring him back.

He averted his gaze from the marker, looking across the aisle to his own, unbroken blue lit marker. It was an eerie sight, seeing what was essentially his own gravestone. Especially when it was perfectly intact and yet his friend's wasn't.

The thought hit him like one of Xaldin's lances. Xigbar and Xaldin hadn't been friends, Braig and Dilan had been. Once becoming Nobodies, that connection had been lost, hadn't it?

He should probably get on with it, figure out why he was here. It wouldn't do any good to let his mind linger on what had been. Xigbar brought his grin back, hiding behind it, unsure of when it had left his face.

"I guess I'm supposed to feel sad, huh? Maybe guilty? Guilty that I'm alive and you aren't?" He scuffed at the side of the marker. "As if. I don't feel a damn thing."

The grin faded again. That wasn't exactly true, as much as he thought it should be. Something prodded at the back of his mind, something cold and not unlike physical pain. An intense emptiness, even more so than usual. But then, was that really a feeling?

"You didn't seem the type to fall so easily, Dilan." How long had it been since he had spoken _that _name out loud?

If Dilan was here, he would have called him a sentimental fool, and laughed. If Xaldin were here, the insult would have been much worse and humorless, and the two would have wound up in a sparring match.

Actually anytime either of them started to have anything or say anything that sounded too reminiscent of humanity it ended in a fight. Those fights would continue until both of them were too physically exhausted to remember any kind of emotion or Saix threw them both out of the castle on missions.

Towards the end of Xaldin's existence those matches had occurred almost daily.

Xigbar hadn't realized he was shaking until his legs could barely hold him up, and he allowed himself to sink to the marker. Up close he could very easily make out the shape of one of Xaldin's lances, but Xaldin himself made no appearance. Carefully Xigbar pulled off a glove, running a hand down the face of the marker, but felt nothing except the cold, uncaring surface.

There was nothing to be done about it. Xaldin was gone. _Dilan_ was gone.

And Xigbar was alone.

"Number II. The keyblade master is here." Xigbar shook his head, quickly standing up from the marker, dizzy from emotions he didn't believe he had. He turned to the Diviner, realizing with a jolt that another marker had gone out without him realizing it.

"I believe you expressed interest in dealing with him yourself?"

"Of course! I can show the little brat the Organization's real power." Xigbar grinned again, meeting Saix's gaze.

Saix nodded. "Don't get carried away, Number II. Nobodies who get too close to the keyblade don't last long." Saix's eyes wandered to the newly broken sigil, before he nodded and left the room, expression as blank as ever.

Xigbar turned back towards Xaldin's marker one last time.

"Well, I guess this is goodbye then." There wasn't an actual response, but Xigbar could almost swear he heard Xaldin – no, _Dilan_ - reply with _Give him hell, Braig_.

Of course. Xigbar summoned a portal. The little snot wouldn't know what hit him.


End file.
